The Explanation Behind the Fixations
by Daring Dashwood
Summary: Wherein all the fetishes of Matt, Mello, Near, and L are explained. Rated M for language.


**The explanation behind the fixations**

Chapter One - Mail Jeevas

A Death Note Fanfic

_Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters._

_Rating: T for language._

* * *

The truth is, I didn't always play video games. No, back before I was orphaned, before L found me, desolate in the underbelly of New York City, I had rather enjoyed partaking in sports, almost as much as Mello. Out of the enormous range of sports, my all-time favourite, as cliche as it is, was baseball.

I loved anything and everything about it. The rush of adrenaline as you walked up to the plate, armed with only a piece of wood; the fact that your own success (or failure) was determined by yourself and yourself alone; that although everyone around you was an enemy, you were filled to the brim with the knowledge that -- if you were good enough--you were untouchable, unstoppable.

A god.

That is, if you were good enough.

Yet another thing I loved about the sport dubbed baseball-- it was a clear cut sport, no room for guesses. You either won, basking in victory, or you lost, bowing your head in submissive defeat. Black or white. No gray, no questions, no complex thoughts involved.

Within lies my fetish for (striped) black and white colored clothing. The combination of the two contrasting, starkly different colors is pure, simple, natural, and just plain _right_. Black is color, white is absence of it. I suppose that's why Mello, the ever-colorful black, shoved the gray out of his life, the one who had a little of both, in favour of the devoid white, Near.

The gray was not, and never was needed for such a perfect balance.

But I digress. When L sent me to Wammy's, I planned to overtake the best sports player they had, and gloat and bask in my victorious glory until I was deemed 'L's Sucessor'. Unfortunately for me, Mello had been the ruler on the field and academically by the time I arrived at age eight. He was the orphanage's 'God'.

I had the nerve and the naivety to challenge that authority.

Heh. Anyone who knows Mello knows how hard he can kick someone's ass when he's pissed. Not to mention the fact that he is WAY better in sports then I'll ever be.

After being knocked off my high horse by Mello, there were two punishments instilled upon me. (Not counting the injuries--they go without saying.) One was self inflicted, the other wasn't. Another balance.

Ever since I was little I always made slightly masochistic vows to myself after a huge blunder-- this was no exception. I promised myself to never participate in sports again, unless forced to by others. Making this pact with myself helped me to not admit to my prideful self that Mello was better at sports, and if I ever did play again, he would utterly annihilate me.

And my other punishment--the most painful one to date, if I may add--was the actions of the other kids at the orphanenge. Either they completely ignored me, or they jeered and taunted me relentlessly. Even the teachers, who were supposed to treat every student equally, looked at me with such disdain.

When you're placed in an orphanage that you will be forced to live in for a majority of your life, your number one goal was to _not _piss anyone off. Oops.

To everyone around me, I was a nobody; a failure; a lost cause; _worthless_. That last one did, and always will strike a cord with me. Heh. Me, Mail Jeevas, I.Q. of 213, picked off the streets by L himself, was fucking _worthless_.

Suicide became increasingly tempting as my first year spent at Wammy's dragged on, each day one torture session after another after another.

I found my self making another vow on New Year's Day, a New Year's Resolution if you may. I swore that the first person to ever show me even a sliver of kindness in the godforsaken place, despite whoever they may be, I would follow as loyal as a dog to its master until my time was at an end.

Of course, I never expected anyone to just randomly walk up to me and offer up friendship on a silver platter. No, if I wanted a friend, I would have to _work _for one. Hard.

So, I started to step it up a bit in classes, raising my hand often, studying like a mad thing, never procrastinating (its not like I had anything else to do). It got to the point when I was on par with Mello. Oh, how I hated Mello (yeah, bet you didn't expect _that, _did you?). Even though our scores were relatively equal on every single test we took, I was still referred to as 'number two'. Mello, the one who ruined my life, claimed the title of first. To say it was infuriating would be like saying Light Yagami was not completely evil and demented.

But, suddenly, unexpectedly, something between Mello and I started to change.

Instead of passing hate filled glares, we started to chat as we walked down the hallway to our next class. There is a special bond that can only be shared between the top two competitors, and we finally fell under the influence of it. Gradually, we found ourselves spending hours on end in one of our rooms, just prattling idly, or studying together in the library.

Soon enough, we came to refer to each other as 'friend'.

Just when everything started to fall into place, _he _came, throwing a huge wrench into all the plans I had been meticulously forming. Yes, _him. _Truth be told, I don't really hate him (Mello claims he does, but I know for a fact that he doesn't). He's actually a pretty swell guy, if you can see through the weird, antisocial, snarky, fake wall he puts up for everyone. It's not really his fault that everything changed because of his presence, hell, if he had it his way he probably would've moved to some desolate place like Antarctica and we never would've heard from him again.

Yeah, you know exactly who I'm talking about.

You know, that albino kid with the I.Q. on par with L's (about 300 I assume), the small, pristine albino that has an odd fetish for toys. You know the one.

Near.

Perfect, impeccable, angelic Near.

As stated prior, I knew from the second I saw that said genius (he was dropped off by L one day, and he looked so darn _cute _clutching this robot to his chest) that things were going to change. And for me, they were not the best types of changes. Not. At. All.

I was going to be left out, again.

I was going to be _worthless_.

Anyway, practically the first day Near was in class, his witty intellect ousted Mello, dethroning the 'God' which had held the position for oh so long. Permanently.

I was bumped back to third, and Mello to second. As being the owner of second place before, I was well adjusted to the lack of power, attention, and praise that a lower rank was given.

Mello, however, was not.

He changed, in such a frightening way. His violent tendencies increased drastically; those who had looked up to him only mere months ago now shied away from him, fearful of his extremely short fuse of a temper. He was obnoxious and unruly in class, all respect he had once had for elders seemed to have vanished without a trace of where it had gone and when the hell it would be back.

And worst of all, the connection that the placeholders of first and second share was abruptly cut.

Despite all of this, we still were, and remain to this day to be, best friends. Why? Because of that vow. That same damned vow that never allowed me to get close to Near. Now that I think about it, that sheep and I would've been great friends if there wasn't the whole 'Mello versus Near' bit going on for the rest of our lives.

I keep skirting off topic. My apologies.

Not being 'number one' was a huge blow to Mello. He needed all the support and encouragement he could get from his one true friend, me, until he came to grips with the horrid truth of the matter. So, what did I do?

I let him score higher than me on tests.

If you know Mello as well as I do, (very few do; I think only Near knows Mels better than myself) than you would know that that was the greatest gift, the greatest relief I could ever give to him. Yes, I did everything for Mello, including acting dumb in an orphanage built for geniuses. Just so _he _could feel better about himself.

This ties into why I started playing video games. Being the dominant one in the sports area (as albino Near couldn't play sports for shit) comforted Mello, and I dared not try harder in school. I needed to find myself a hobby, lest I go completely insane. You need an example, look at what happened to A.

I breezed through the library, thinking at first that reading would become my obsession. It could be extremely dull and droll at times, but it was all I had. As I was leafing through a Shakespearean play, the buzzes and beeps of a Gameboy Advance SP reached my ears. At first the sounds irritated me--weren't libraries supposed to be _quiet_?

But as I started to become attune to the constant beeps and clicks emitting from the hand-held system, I found myself rather enjoying them. Tossing Shakespeare on a table, I begged and pleaded with the boy for a good thirty minutes before he would finally relinquish his hold of the thing.

I remember what the game was clearly_: The Legend of Zelda: Minish Cap_. I played it with such a mighty fervour that I'd never experienced with sports or academics.

It gave me thrills to test my brain with the game's puzzles (although they were all very simple). I had the choice to do what I wanted, when and how I wanted to, and no one could ever utter a single cry of protest about it. My survival or my humiliating death was self-dependent.

I had found another place to 'play God'.

Finally, I had found my obsession.

--

I'm not exactly 100% certain why I decided to smoke.

After Mello fucking _left_, things were never the same. Near wasn't the same. _I _wasn't the same.

I didn't know which way was up half the fucking time, that how fucked up it all was.

At first, it had just been me, my video games, and creepy, quiet Near, in this dead, godforsaken excuse for an orphanage. More like an extreme stress builder/break-you-emotionally facility.

Smoking helped calm my ever-jittery nerves down, if only a little. Besides, I figured, why worry what it does to your lungs? With my luck, Kira will kill me well before I can even begin to _think _about the side-effects of taking a drag every ten minutes.

Neither Near nor I felt that sparking connection of numbers one and two, because even though he had left, we hadn't the heart to fill in the gap he left behind.

Scarily, the little sheep and I started to become friends. I used him to not replace Mello's gap, but to cover it, so it wouldn't seem so noticeable. What hurts is that Near _knew _that I was simply using him for my own benefit (much like Mello did), and yet he still stuck by me.

I'm not sure I'll ever figure someone like him out. Ever. He's just far to complex and intricate for someone as clear-cut as me.

Last on my list of obsessions, is my goggles. There's a really simple, easy explanation for them.

Eyes are the window to the soul, so they say, and they are correct, most especially when it comes to my mind-reading Mello-replacement, Near. Mello was half as good as Near with all this psychological shit, and all that led to was pain.

Near, being the manipulative bastard that he is, might break me far worse than Mello ever did.

The mandarin goggles acted as a shield, guarding me from Near's penetrating gazes, Mello's absence, L's death, and the world.

Even when I came crawling to Mello at the Mafia's doorstep (and leaving behind a very dejected Near, might I add. That still stings when I think of it. It's like I did to him what Mello did to me.) I left those goggles on.

Who when he might abandon me again.

Near might refer to me as Mello's bitch, and I think he may be right.

I'm such a fucking_ dog_.

At least being a dog means I'm not the one thing I can never stand to be.

Worthless.

-fin-

Um...yeah. Just came to me one day. Sorry for all the curses, Matt doesn't care how in-eloquently he puts things, as long as he gets his message across. Matt was in maybe ten panels for the whole series, so I just dredged up a personality for him. Sorry if it's not what you thought, but this how I assumed things were.

Next up is Mello.

For the record, I don't even _like _baseball.

-bleu-blizzard-


End file.
